


The seven locks of his head

by do_it_to_julia



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Assassination, Blow Jobs, Condoms, Gratuitous classical references, Hux is Not Nice, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Manipulation, Power Bottom Hux, Seduction, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-14 07:58:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16488716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/do_it_to_julia/pseuds/do_it_to_julia
Summary: It didn't entirely surprise Cardinal when Armitage summoned him that evening. Part of him had even hoped for it. Hearing the news of Brendol's death had left a deep and empty kind of pain in him that even immersing himself in his work hadn't been able to assuage. He hated himself for it, despite knowing it was a natural part of grief; it wasn't his place to solicit comfort from his superior officers. But he could not help but feel that he, too, had lost a father.For the Star Wars rarepairs exchange. Largely canon-compliant.





	The seven locks of his head

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inquisitor_tohru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitor_tohru/gifts).



> The prompt was:
> 
>  
> 
> _Given their backgrounds and their interactions in Phasma, this has the potential to be a really interesting pairing. If you do write anything explicit, I'd prefer for it not to be hatesex. Whether it's set before or after Brendol's death is entirely up to you! (Ice blue sofa also optional)_
> 
>  
> 
> I fully admit to being a smutmonger first and foremost; my characterization tends to be entirely propped up by filth. Nevertheless, I've tried to do both characters justice - I hope I've succeeded, at least a little.

_ "It is my solemn duty to deliver the news that my father, General Brendol Hux, passed away due to a sudden and unknown malady last night, despite the tireless efforts of the ship's medical teams. _

_ "A private memorial service for senior officers will be held in three cycles' time on the observation deck; details of his public memorial will be forwarded to all troops via your COs once arrangements have been finalized. In lieu of an appointed successor, I shall assume the burden of his post for the time being. _

_ "All of you will doubtless be shocked and saddened by the General's passing. My father was an exceptional man. His contribution to our cause will be remembered in perpetuity, and it would be an insult to him to allow his passing to affect your duties to this Order. When you go to your posts today, you do so in his honour, knowing that you are continuing his legacy in some way, however small. _

_ "None among us are immortal. But thanks to the accomplishments of men such as my father, the soul of the Empire lives on, and the First Order shall bear its eternal flame. _

_ "You are dismissed." _

-Armitage Hux to the crew of the  _ Absolution _ , 28 ABY

* * *

 

It didn't entirely surprise Cardinal when Armitage summoned him that evening. Part of him had even hoped for it. Hearing the news of Brendol's death had left a deep and empty kind of pain in him that even immersing himself in his work hadn't been able to assuage. He hated himself for it, despite knowing it was a natural part of grief; it wasn't his place to solicit comfort from his superior officers. But he could not help but feel that he, too, had lost a father.

Any uncertainty regarding Cardinal's reasons for being there was quickly dispelled when Armitage answered the door in nothing but that sleek black robe of his. He smelt faintly of alcohol and cigarras, in the way that Brendol had sometimes, and for a moment the reminder jarred something in his chest. If Armitage noted the change in his expression, he didn't comment.

"Cardinal. Do come in," he said, with that usual, graceful tilt of his head. "I was hoping to talk about how things might progress following the change in leadership."

It was a social lie, a flimsy pretense for their meeting, but something about his phrasing made the older man pause. Armitage's assumption of his father's post was supposed to be temporary. True, he'd become increasingly more involved over the past few years as Brendol's projects gained traction and began to demand more administrative support, but the position wasn't hereditary. That wasn't how the First Order worked.

_ You're overthinking this _ , he told himself.  _ You're mourning; so is he _ . The younger Hux's composure seemed flawless, to the point where Cardinal was no longer sure it  _ was _ composure. But it had always been that way with him. Everything about him was so very  _ disciplined _ , as if he had been programmed rather than raised; as if he had stepped fully-formed out of Brendol’s shadow, slender and graceful as a blade.

* * *

 

It began two years ago. Armitage had invited him back to his quarters after a long day of meetings, and surprised him with the offer of a drink. As with Brendol, Cardinal had politely refused, citing the need to keep a clear head. Armitage had given him a long, scrutinizing look, then, but after a second, he'd smiled - leaning back on that ice-blue sofa in a way that never quite felt casual, that one could never quite call  _ lounging _ , one elbow settled on the armrest, knuckles propped demurely under his chin. His legs were folded beneath him, bare beneath the short black robe and compellingly slim; Cardinal tried not to stare.

"You can relax, soldier. You're not on duty," he said, then added, "I just returned from another of my father's soirées. He talked about you. He's very proud of you, you know."

It came as something as a surprise to hear the compliment, even by proxy. "I'm honoured to hear that, sir," he replied, keeping his voice carefully neutral. Armitage picked up his half-empty glass and gestured to the stormtrooper helmet under Cardinal's arm with his free hand.

"Put that thing down. Come, sit," he said. "It occurs to me we've not spoken much. Which is a shame. I'd like to get to know you better, Cardinal. Anyone exceptional enough to attain my father's praise must be interesting company."

Armitage gave him an appraising look, green eyes lingering on the breadth of his shoulders beneath the armour before descending further. As he sat down obediently, Cardinal wondered whether the other man might actually envy him. Brendol had a great deal to say about his progeny, none of it particularly complimentary; lack of physical prowess being chief amongst his complaints. Yet the stormtrooper Captain couldn't help but think that his kind of bulk would not have suited the General's son. Armitage's features were graceful, almost delicate; it was hard not to allow his thoughts to wander beneath the robe, to imagine where the small smattering of freckles on his collarbone might lead.

Envious or not, Armitage showed no sign of resentment toward him as he spoke - polite, mundane enquiries about his background and his day-to-day life, which Cardinal answered with all the respect befitting a superior officer, until the younger man surprised him by offering, abruptly;

"Surely you must be uncomfortable in that armour. You can take it off, if you like."

"It's actually very movable, sir," he replied, with mild confusion. "The First Order has improved significantly on the Empire's original design-"

Armitage gave an amused grin and cut him off. "Cardinal," he said bluntly. "Would you like to fuck me?"

Cardinal stared at him.

"Excuse me?"

"You can say no," Hux reassured him. "I'm not in the habit of leveraging my power to that end. Far more pleasant with a willing partner, is it not?"

"I... wouldn't know." Cardinal was too stunned by the question to even consider what his answer might be. 

"Ah. I see. Regardless, the offer is still there."

The older man became abruptly aware that his mouth was still hanging open, and he closed it, forcing himself back into some semblance of discipline. Which was difficult, since the offer had been a metaphorical red rag to his libido. Back on Jakku he’d been first too young and then too focused on survival to even think about sex, and after that, most of his time had been taken up by training. Physical intimacy between stormtroopers wasn't forbidden - was in fact tacitly permitted, as long as they kept it quiet and took the right precautions - but Cardinal had consciously abstained, partly due to his position, and partly due to -

Well. Considering the way Armitage was draped over the sofa and the manner of his inquiries ("And is there anyone in particular you spend your time with? I'm sure it must get very lonely..."), Cardinal was beginning to wonder whether 'lack of opportunity' was a sufficient excuse. It occurred to him that he might just have been too obtuse to recognize previous offers.

Which would have been a depressing thought, except now Armitage was looking at him very intently, and biting that plush lower lip, one hand toying with the tie to his robe.

"I..." It was becoming quite hard to concentrate. And, on a related note, Cardinal had never realized before just how uncomfortable it was to get an erection in his armour. Kriff. He felt like a sex-starved teenager. "What about your father?"

"I'd rather not fuck  _ him _ ," Armitage replied smoothly.

"I mean-" He swallowed. Was he actually considering this? Surely it wasn't professional to sleep with the son of your mentor? And yet they were both adults, free to spend their time with whomever they wanted, within reason. And the younger man's eyes were on his, still, and he was moving toward him now, on his knees over the seat cushions, and  _ fuck _ , the hand that came to rest on his chest armour felt like it was pressing right down on his skin, warm and alluring and  _ real _ .

"I would very much like to see what's under that suit, Cardinal," murmured Armitage. "But say the word, and I'll stop. No repercussions. No pressure. No rank. Just two people enjoying each other's company."

"I wouldn't know where to begin." The words came before he was even aware of them. Armitage smiled, and climbed gracefully into his lap.

"Then let me show you." His voice was almost a whisper. Carefully, he tilted his chin forward and pressed his soft lips against Cardinal's, eyes fluttering closed. Armitage was almost weightless atop the other, a mere slip of a man by comparison, but oh,  _ maker _ , every shift of those slender limbs seemed designed to entice a response from his cock, and Cardinal found himself opening to the kiss, to the gentle explorations of Armitage's tongue against his own.

"Is that a yes?" Armitage murmured, when he finally drew away.

"Yes," he breathed, and, at last, allowed himself to reach up and touch him, one plastoid-plated arm encircling his waist, the other hand resting at the back of his thigh, where the hem of that robe was riding up beneath the touch of his glove.

Deftly, Armitage began undoing the fastenings of his armour - chestplate, shoulders, arms, belt - in a manner that suggested he'd done this before, holding Cardinal's gaze all the while. At first each piece was laid aside with the same care as Cardinal undressed himself every evening, but by the time he'd gathered his wits enough to help, he found himself simply dropping them beside the sofa, belt following gauntlets, upper legs following belt, as Armitage slid down to his knees on the floor to take care of his greaves and boots.

His erection jutted out embarrassingly under the full-body-suit all stormtroopers wore, already at full-mast despite having not been touched, but far from deriding his obvious inexperience, Armitage actually smirked and pressed his hand against it, rubbing him with his palm in a way that made Cardinal gasp. “Kriff, you're magnificent,” he murmured. “No wonder-”

He cut himself off, and whatever he had intended to say went unvoiced; instead he looked up at the older man, moving both hands to rest on his tautly-muscled inner thighs. “Let me see all of you,” he purred, and Cardinal was helpless to resist.

He unfastened the suit with eager, fumbling hands, peeling it down to his waist before Armitage took over. After stripping him fully, he bowed his head and wrapped his lips around Cardinal's cock so abruptly that he could not help but gasp at the overwhelming tight heat of his mouth and the skilled way his tongue massaged the underside as he took him in as deeply as he could. Cardinal's chest was heaving now, his hands curling into fists at his sides as Armitage pleasured him. Kriff, he'd come within moments if he wasn't careful; with difficulty and some reluctance, he cupped the other man's cheek with his hand and lightly eased him off again.

“I'm sorry-” he managed. Armitage's lips were flushed and a little swollen already; he seemed puzzled, and perhaps a little offended, until Cardinal found the wherewithal to continue. “I'm - quite close.”

“Ah.” The younger man gave another lopsided smile. He rose to his feet, one hand resting on Cardinal's knee as he stood. “I understand. Don't move. I'll be right back.”

He slipped gracefully into the fresher, leaving Cardinal panting on the sofa and still attempting in vain to collect his thoughts. Was he really going to do this? In theory he was well within his rights - in practice, he couldn't help but wonder if this wasn't in some way a betrayal, if Brendol might somehow find out and -

But now Armitage was back and standing between his thighs, slender and irresistible and still wearing that inscrutable smirk. He set a bottle and a small, discreet packet down on the cushions beside him before reaching for the ties of his robe.

“I hope you're good with your fingers, Cardinal,” he teased as he pulled away the cord, parting the sleek black fabric to reveal his half-hard cock and the pale, toned expanse of his body. In one swift movement, the robe had fallen from his shoulders.

He was beautiful. In the heat of his desire it was the only word Cardinal's mind could grasp for, but it seemed to fit perfectly. His arms twitched, aching to embrace him; Armitage took hold of one hand and placed it onto his own waist as he straddled him.

“You have my permission to touch me,” he said, with a sort of imperious amusement. “In fact I encourage it. Here.” He picked up the bottle again and took hold of Cardinal's free hand. “Start with one finger. I'll tell you when I'm ready for another.”

He was warm inside, and disconcertingly tight. Cardinal moved with caution, slight anxiety causing his erection to flag until Hux took hold of him and gave him a long, teasing stroke. 

“I won't break,” he murmured. “Go deeper. Yes - like that. Oh, kriff, your fingers are so thick.” 

Gradually, he seemed to relax around him, breathlessly demanding a second finger, then a third. Though his expression tensed at the stretch at first, it shifted into a kind of strained pleasure, and Cardinal found himself unable to look away from the sight of him - eyes fluttered closed, throat exposed, his breath coming in short, quiet gasps.

Eventually, Armitage lay his hand on the older man's arm and squeezed lightly, drawing away from his fingers to kneel at his side.

“Shift forward a little,” he murmured, with a guiding touch to his thigh. His eyelashes lowered as he rolled the condom down over Cardinal's length, fingers gentle and deft, and then he was moving over him again, one hand grasping his shoulder as he eased down, head tilted back, breath hitching audibly in his throat.

The feeling of being inside him was almost overwhelming - far more intense than the few times Cardinal had caved to his urges and sought solitary relief in the dark of his room - but the slight tension in the other’s expression worried him. Without thinking, he took hold of Hux's hips to steady him and rubbed his thumbs in small, soothing circles. “Am I hurting you?” he blurted out. Armitage offered an indulgent smile, and shook his head.

“I’m fine. Just adjusting,” he said, as he wound his arms around Cardinal's shoulders for support. “Kriff, you're  _ huge _ . No - don't apologize - that's a good thing.” He laughed, breathy and abrupt, and pressed a kiss to the older man’s forehead, an oddly endearing gesture. They were close now, so close that their eyes could not help but meet, and there was a lazy heat in Armitage's gaze when he wrapped his legs behind Cardinal's waist, impaling himself fully with a small hiss of breath.

“Move,” Armitage commanded breathily, and he obeyed, ecstasy gathering and coiling within him at each tentative rock of his hips. It was difficult to do much in this position, and for a while the young officer merely clung to him, letting out short breaths with each languid thrust.

Somewhere beyond the intoxicating heat of the other's flesh, it struck Cardinal that he had been largely a passive observer to this seduction. And yet, far from being disturbed by this, he found himself enjoying it. The idea of serving this beautiful man by allowing him to take what he needed from his body was at once freeing and enticing. He watched, enraptured by the sight and warmth of him, the pale expanse of his neck as his head tilted back in pleasure. Armitage’s cock was hard between them, glistening with pre-come at the tip, and Cardinal found himself offering out between breaths, “May I touch you?”

“Oh, fuck, yes.” The words came out as a long sigh, eliding into a moan of relief when the stormtrooper’s large hand wrapped around his member. Cardinal pleasured him with quick, shallow strokes, in the same way as he would pleasure himself late at night. It seemed to work on Armitage too, because suddenly he was squeezing his legs around Cardinal’s waist as he rocked back against him, breaths coming in short gasps.

It was everything; it was too much. “I’m going to come,” Cardinal choked, his impending orgasm overtaking his embarrassment, and Armitage clung close to him, lips pressed abruptly to his neck.

“Come for me,” he panted. “Don’t hold back.”

Cardinal heard a low, deep groan; somewhere amongst the white-hot intensity of his cock pulsing inside the son of his mentor, he realized that the sound had come from him. Armitage shoved Cardinal’s hand out of the way to spill himself over the older man’s taut abdomen with a few efficient pumps, and as the all-encompassing bliss of his climax began to fade and the warmth of Armitage’s release settled on his skin, he could not help but think,  _ what have I done? Oh, fuck, what have I done? _

* * *

 

He spent a good two weeks waiting for the other shoe to drop. Every comm notification, every meeting with Brendol, every sidelong glance from a superior officer as he passed made his heart twitch in his chest. But by the time Armitage summoned him again, the expected reprimand (or demotion, or hasty execution) had not come.

He was half tempted to put an end to it then. And yet by the time Armitage had him on that ice-blue sofa, hand on his thigh, drink in his hand, he could not find the will to refuse. Not because he was afraid of the repercussions - the younger Hux had been very clear that there wouldn’t be any - but rather because he did not want to. His body yearned for the other man’s touch, his lips for the soft pressure of his skin, and when Armitage offered himself once more in that smooth, persuasive tone, he could not help but allow his armour to be stripped away piece by piece.

As the months drifted by, he grew to learn what the other expected from him. Armitage did not like sentimentality. He did not like to be held too much, kissed too softly. But he liked to be told that he was handsome; that his body felt incredible, so hot,  _ so kriffing tight _ . And he liked to be in control. More often than not the young officer chose to ride him, and when he did not, he still gasped out each plea like a command.  _ Harder. Deeper. Fuck me, Cardinal. I want to be feeling you all day tomorrow. I want to remember this. _

It should have been wrong, but it didn’t feel that way. By degrees, the fear that Brendol would find out faded, eroded away under each caress of his son’s hand. If the General knew what was going on under his nose, and surely he  _ had to _ by now, he didn’t care.

About two months before Brendol passed away, the calls stopped. Cardinal didn’t notice until he glanced back over his schedule and realized that Armitage had not contacted him for some time. The sharp twisting feeling in his chest was unpleasant and worrying. He could not afford to get attached. The young officer had been clear from the beginning that this was purely a physical arrangement.

There was no question as to whether Cardinal should attempt to reach out. It wasn’t his place, and anyway, Armitage was busy with some new project, something that had kept him away from the Absolution for longer than usual. Perhaps that was why he had not yet sought relief in Cardinal’s arms. He put it out of his mind, went on with his routine; planned lessons, evaluated students, shed his armour carefully at the end of each day, remembering only occasionally the way Armitage’s fingers had been so deft with each fastening.

Still, he couldn’t help but allow his gaze to flicker away, sometimes, when he was by Brendol’s side. Just a moment, nothing more; enough to ascertain that the group of uniformed personnel passing by did not include the General’s son, to see through half-closed meeting room doors no telltale flash of that bright hair whose texture Cardinal now knew so well.

And then, quite suddenly, as he and Phasma were escorting Brendol to the next meeting, there he was. Armitage Hux, alone at the other end of the corridor and striding in their direction.

A dozen questions burst into Cardinal’s mind, breaking through the disciplined rank and file of his daily thoughts; where had he been? How long had he been back aboard? Did this mean he would call for him again? He could not afford to dwell too much on that, not while he was on duty, but when Armitage turned, Cardinal struggled to keep his gaze ahead.

“General,” the younger Hux said smoothly, passing his father with a nod. Then his eyes slid to Cardinal’s mask. Even through the visor, that brilliant green seemed to grab him with its intensity. Any minor irritation caused by his long absence disappeared at the subtle twitch of Armitage’s lips, a quiet and promising smile meant only for him.

“Captain,” he said, and Cardinal felt a thrill pass through his body unbidden. He was becoming more grateful for the armour by the moment. “I have some matters to discuss with you; nothing urgent, but perhaps-” 

“Commodore.” Brendol’s voice cut in, sharp and contemptuous; Cardinal had the distinct impression that the General would address his son by rank even in private. “Is there some problem with the intra-ship communication system?”

Armitage slid a cool glance to his father. “No, General,” he replied. “My apologies for detaining you, Captain. I’ll contact you later.”

Brendol was already marching ahead of them, scratching the back of his neck irritatedly. Cardinal managed an abrupt nod to Armitage and then quickened his step to catch up. Beside him, he saw Phasma’s arm move, and for one irrational instant - perhaps harking back to his childhood on Jakku - he wondered if she was going to strike him for his inattention. Of course that didn’t happen; she was merely adjusting her gauntlet.

He kept an eye on his comm as soon as he went off-duty, but Armitage did not call him.

By the end of the next day, Brendol Hux was dead.

* * *

 

Cardinal had seen death enough times to know that everyone mourned in different ways. Armitage, perhaps, was one of those who kept their grief locked up until it could be channeled into drink or spice or sex. Certainly by the time their lips drew close, the older man could tell that he had been indulging a little in the first, and if he chose now to pour his sadness into the latter, who was Cardinal to refuse him? After all he, too, had been yearning for this comfort, now more than ever.

He felt Armitage’s fingers move to the straps of his armour, and helped him wordlessly; his hands, once freed from their gauntlets, slid beneath the black robe without prompting, taking solace in the warmth of another living human. There was nothing desperate about their kisses, nothing in Armitage’s touch on his bare skin that suggested this was different from any other night together, and yet when their eyes finally met there was something searching in those green depths that he had never seen before.

“Are you alright?” Cardinal asked him.

Hux parted his lips, and glanced down, considering his response. For the space of a heartbeat it looked as if he might have been smiling, but it was just a trick of the light.

“I will be,” he said softly. “Come to me.”

He lay back and spread his thighs, Cardinal moving over him obediently. This part was almost routine by now; lube and condom retrieved from a pocket of the black robe, his strong arm moving between them, two fingers, then three, Armitage’s breaths coming quick in the silence. This time when Cardinal leaned in to kiss him, Hux took longer to break off, as if he needed the contact, and when he entered him, those bright green eyes held his all the while.

His legs clung tight around the older man’s waist as they moved together, chasing their pleasure with each stuttering thrust. At some point Armitage’s arm had crept above them and was grasping the fabric of the sofa, his head thrown back in bliss, and Cardinal was experienced enough by now to angle his hips in a way that made Armitage cry out and tense around him, reaching his climax only seconds after the Captain touched his cock.

The sight pushed Cardinal closer to that intoxicating peak, and he quickened his thrusts, feeling Hux’s body go pliant beneath him. The younger man’s eyes were warm and heavy-lidded with satisfied desire, lips nudged open, cheeks flushed. Cardinal came with a shudder of breath. As he collapsed atop him, panting, Armitage’s hand teased gently through his hair.

“Do you know, it has a slight curl to it when it’s damp like this,” he murmured. The incongruity of his words made Cardinal pause, and it took him a moment to understand. Armitage made a sound that could have been a sigh or a gentle laugh. “A shame you’re not allowed to grow it,” he continued.

Cardinal lifted himself up over him, watching his face. The fingers that had been teasing through his hair now rested on his shoulder and squeezed.

“You can stay for a while longer,” Hux said. “If you like.”

Perhaps both of them needed it tonight. “I would,” Cardinal admitted. Armitage smiled at him, then, and any doubts he’d had about the future began to disappear. They would cradle their grief together, find comfort in each other’s arms, and whatever happened in the wake of Brendol’s death, Cardinal would still be needed. He would still be  _ useful _ .

Everything was going to be fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Story time: During the process of writing this, I was starting a new medication, which is known for initially making you "high as fuck", as the professionals say. Some time over a Friday evening I thought it would be a good idea to commission a fanart to go along with this fic. To the artist's credit, they did contact me a few days later and ask me if I was _really sure_ I wanted to pay them to draw Cardinal and Armitage Hux in the style of a classical painting, but I rarely do anything while fucked up that I don't secretly want to do sober. Anyway, that's the story of how I ended up commissioning Star Wars rarepair art based on Jose Echenagusia's Samson and Delilah". [You're welcome.](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1glP0FohcbFt-IOqD7fR7LbwxzgJFR-gb/view) Art by pessimistic-orange.


End file.
